Summary:

"Yeah but fear and panic aren't the only emotions. What about hope? Or Love? Friendship?"

After his conversation with Yassen in episode 4 of season 3, Alex thinks about the nature of hope, friendship and love when it comes to the four most important people in his life.

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Notes:

Set during Season 3, Episode 4.

Title shamelessly stolen from a line in The Beatles' In My Life. Opening line taken directly from season three, episode four.

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"Yeah but fear and panic aren't the only emotions. What about hope? Or Love? Friendship?"

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Hope

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He hasn't told Ian or Jack, but he's really nervous about going to St Jude's. A proper school for the first time. Itchy uniforms. Strange lessons. Strict teachers. No friends. Only bullies. Apparently.

He's just about to bite into a slightly dry tuna sandwich that Jack had thrust into his hands that morning as he sleepily prepared for school, when a short boy with curly hair comes over.

"How did you get them to go away?"

He looks up, surprised. "Who?"

"Those big lads… in the playground this morning."

"Oh…" he grins. "My uncle taught me how to stand up to bullies, just in case."

"Can you teach me?"

The boy sits down opposite him and pushes a packet of Pom-Bear crisps across the scratched blue plastic table towards him. "I can pay."

He loves Pom-Bears. And Jack hadn't packed him crisps… Only a tangerine that's gone squidgy on one side.

He takes the packet and opens it, popping a scrunched, bear-shaped crisp into his mouth thoughtfully, before turning the packet to the boy. "Share with me?"

The boy grins, taking a handful of crisps. "I'm Tom."

Alex finds himself smiling back. "I'm Alex."

Maybe he does have a friend after all. The thought fills him with hope. Might school actually be okay?

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He's nine years old and is hiding in his room when his Uncle Ian knocks on the door and enters.

"Hey Al- how's it going? Jack said you didn't want dinner?"

"Not hungry." His stomach gives a traitorous rumble as he says it.

"Clearly."

Much to his annoyance, Ian sits down on the end of his bed. Hadn't Alex made it clear that he didn't want company?

"What's up mate?"

"Nothing…" but he finds his eyes filling with tears as he says it and angrily shakes them away. He's nine and not a baby.

"Hey, hey, Alex. Come here."

Ian pulls him into a hug and Alex finally allows himself to relax, feeling a little bit safe at last. His uncle lets him cry for a while before pulling back and looking at him.

"Sorry…" he mumbles.

"For what? You never have to apologise for being upset."

"We're… we're doing family trees at school. They said we had to talk to our mum and dad and get them to help us put our trees together. I can't do that. I don't have a mum or a dad." He sniffs.

"Oh Alex. I'm sorry."

He uses the edge of his duvet cover to wipe his eyes and nose. "It's not fair."

"No, it's very much not fair." His uncle is stroking his leg comfortingly through the blanket and Alex is starting to feel a little bit better.

"But just because you can't talk to your mum and dad anymore it doesn't mean you don't have parents – you had the most amazing parents in the world and they loved you so, so much."

"And," Ian moves closer to him conspiratorially, "you know I'm your dad's brother and I know the family tree quite well… I can help you make it."

"Really? You'll help me?"

"Of course I will." Ian grins at him. "What are uncles for?"

He's definitely feeling better now – almost… hopeful? A project for him and Ian. He likes that idea. He gives Ian a shy smile.

"Now – shall we go see if Jack's got some dinner for us?"

Alex's smile widens. "I am pretty hungry…"

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And then he's trying to escape the building where Craystar have hosted their terrible pre-launch event, following instructions coming into his phone and feeling both nervous and stupid for trusting this mysterious person – the true K7, apparently. But really, does he have a choice?

Then he reaches the car park and this K7 person is standing there and Alex's heart is thumping a mile a minute – fear and adrenaline pumping through him. Is this it? Is this where it all ends?

"K7?"

"Hello, spyboy."

She pulls her hood down and… ohhhhh…. "Kyra..." he whispers.

He's never been so completely and utterly relieved to see anyone in his whole life. The thought jumps into his head, unbidden, that everything will be okay now. Kyra's here. And for the first time in several weeks he feels that he might just get through this.

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That piece of paper handed to him by Mrs Jones after one of the most terrifying days of his life is pure gold dust. Jack is his legal guardian. She can stay. He's safe. She's safe.

Yes, he's lost his parents, Ian, every family member he's ever known. But family isn't all about blood ties – Jack is his family now. He grins at her and she grins back. They have each other. Forever. It's in writing and legally binding.

He's flooded with relief and love and hope.

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Friendship

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He's four and hopping down the stairs one at a time in response to Ian's summons.

"Yes?" he asks, skipping into the kitchen and hoping it's snack time.

"Alex, there's someone I'd like you to meet-" and Ian steps aside to introduce a strange lady who is standing in his kitchen.

Nervous and unsure, Alex moves automatically towards his Uncle for protection, nuzzling into Ian's leg. "Who's she?"

The strange lady approaches him and crouches down so that her eyes are level with his. She looks younger than his uncle but has a friendly face and once she's down on his level she looks less scary. "Hi Alex, I'm Jack."

"That's a boy's name."

The adults chuckles and he scowls up at his uncle. "It is. My friend is called Jack and he's a boy."

"Some names can be boys names and girls names," says his Uncle. "Someone I work with is called Alexandra – she's a girl and we call her 'Alex' for short. Like you."

Alex thinks about this for a bit. He supposes that makes sense. He turns back to the stranger – to Jack. "Your voice is funny."

"Do you mean my accent? I'm from a country quite far away from here called America."

Well that's interesting. He looks at her curiously. "Why did you come here?"

"I'm going to school here."

"Me too!"

The adults laugh again, but it's more friendly and so he doesn't mind so much this time.

"Alex," says his uncle gently, "Jack's going to stay with us for a bit and look after you like I do, especially if I'm on a work trip or if I can't be here.

He's suddenly scared. "Did I do something bad?"

"No, of course not! Why would you think that?"

Alex looks up at his uncle. "Because you said you were going away?"

Ian reaches down to pick him up and Alex buries his face into his uncle's neck which makes him feel a bit better. He can feel his uncle's chest rumble comfortingly as Ian speaks.

"I never, ever want to leave you but sometimes I have to go on trips because of my work at the bank. Remember when I went to Paris and you had to stay with Mrs Ainsley?"

Alex nods into Ian's shoulder but isn't quite ready to leave the safety of it.

"Well, it's like that, except that you won't have to leave your house or your room. Jack will stay with us. So you'll have a friend at home."

Alex turns to study Jack for a bit. She looks nice enough – her smile is friendly. Maybe she'll take him to the zoo. "You want to be my friend?"

Jacks grins at him. "I'd love to be your friend."

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They spend the day scuba diving before returning to their hotel in the tiny Sardinian coastal town they'd booked a little house in.

They flop out on sun loungers next to the pool – too exhausted to go for a swim but also too exhausted to go further than the pool to actually shower and change.

They sit in companionable silence listening to the gentle chirping of crickets and enjoying the occasional gusts of a light breeze that offer some relief from the stifling Italian summer heat.

It's been an incredible holiday – they'd dived and biked and gone paragliding and hiked and it had all been amazing. He loves hanging out with Ian – doesn't get to do it nearly enough – and lying there in the sun of the Mediterranean he feels completely and utterly at peace.

"Y'know the guys from school were surprised when I said we were going on a holiday together. I don't think they could imagine having fun with their parents."

Ian chuckles and his voice comes back sleepily. "Eh – I'm much cooler than your average parent."

So true. He knows he should feel unlucky to have lost his parents so young, to have never known them, but right now sitting here with his uncle he feels like one of the luckiest people alive.

"You know what I think it is?"

"Hmmm?" Ian responds.

"I think it's because we're friends too." He's slightly embarrassed saying it, but it's true. His uncle Ian is one of his best friends.

He closes his eyes to the sun but then hears Ian sitting up so slowly opens one eyelid to see his uncle looking at him.

Ian is grinning. "You know what mate, I think that's exactly what it is. And I couldn't think of a better friend to be on holiday with."

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He wakes up after a disturbed night filled with dreams of the car crash – of Ian being flung from the car, of smashing glass and crunching metal – to find Tom seated next to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Jack called – thought you might want some company."

He nods, not sure he does want company but too tired and sad to throw Tom out. "I don't want to talk."

"That's okay, mate. I'm just here to be with you."

He sighs and can feel the exhaustion starting the wash over him again. "I think…" he whispers, "I think I might try and sleep again."

"You do that. I'll be here when you wake up."

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"Are you three drunk?"

They've stumbled into the Airbnb at about midnight having got lost in the streets of Venice and, in the process, consumed more than their fair share of wine, beer and limoncello – the latter of which, Alex notes, is surprisingly strong for a drink that it so sweet and slips down so easily.

Tom fields the question. "Technically, Jack, I think you'll find that we're tipsy."

They all fall about laughing and Alex sees Jack grin slightly, as if she can't help herself.

"Well I'm off to bed – don't stay up too late you three, and don't wake me," she says sternly, pointing at them each in turn.

This is hilarious and they fall about laughing again.

Then Alex feels a little bad.

"Sorry Jack. We promise we'll be good," he grins, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

She cups his face gently. "I know, you always are." She gazes carefully at each of them. "Night you lot, sweet dreams."

Glasses of water are poured, a bag of crisps cracked open and then they're all curled up on the sofa. Kyra and Alex either side, her legs leaning across his thighs. Tom in between them, legs crossed, leaning over to try and grab Alex's phone.

They laugh. They tell stories. They mock each other. The channel they've chosen starts playing some Italian opera but no one can be bothered to get up and change it. Tom knocks over the crisps. Kyra falls asleep.

He's never felt so grateful to have them both. To experience such true friendship.

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Love

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He finds the letter a little after his fourteenth birthday while searching through his uncle's office for his passport.

Dear Ian,

Thank you for the gorgeous stuffed elephant that arrived yesterday. Alex loves it. Well, he's too young to really know what it is but it's not left his crib since it arrived so will absolutely become his favourite if I have anything to say about it! I've called it Leo because it annoys John. Can't think why!

You asked how we are doing? Where do I start… Exhausted. Elated. Terrified. Covered in so many different liquids. So utterly in love… It's difficult to put it into words. I might be biased, but Alex is honestly the cutest baby I have ever met in my life.

But you'll see for yourself soon enough! John says you'll be back in London in December? I hope we're your first visit…

John's doing okay. I think he's a little frustrated with work and just wants to get things wrapped up so we can finally fully focus on family life. I've got six months off from the hospital (three months to go… can't believe it's going by so fast!) and then we'll see what happens next. For now we're just living day-to-day and trying to sleep when we can. Which isn't a lot. It's okay, baby is worth it.

Anyway, just a quick note to say thank you and that we hope you're doing well and John sends his love too.

Lots of love and hugs,

H x

And, attached to the letter with a paperclip is a slightly faded polaroid picture of a little boy in his cot, a dusting of blond hair coating his head, tiny fingers tightly grasping the blanket over him. Behind the little figure, and almost twice the size of him, sits a giant stuffed toy elephant. Written at the base of the photo he can just about make out a few lines in faded black ink: Alex, November 2004 – most beautiful and loved baby in the world. We all miss you and can't wait for you to meet Alex xxx

A tear splashes onto the edge of the photo and he realises he's crying, so he quickly puts both photo and letter away before he damages them. It's enough to know that they are here if he ever wants to read his mother's words again, to experience what it is like to be fully, completely and unconditionally loved.

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She hugs him as he cries, his tears soaking into her pyjama top, and he knows he's snotty and gross but can't find it in him to care because Ian's gone. Gone.

She strokes his back gently, letting him cry for as long as he needs.

"It's okay…" Jack murmurs.

But how can it be okay? How will anything ever be okay again?

"I'm here, I'm not going anywhere, and I love you."

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He doesn't deserve Tom, he really doesn't. He doesn't deserve a friend who's willing to cycle through a rainy night to a random country house to bring him a pizza and chat. Even if he did coat said pizza in bloody anchovies.

"So it's just looking round a school, yeah?"

He can hear the worry in Tom's voice and he feels a sudden rush of love for his best friend. There's something nice about knowing that the people he loves are looking out for him.

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He's never been in love before. He's certainly loved people. He loves Jack and Tom. He loved Ian. He doesn't remember them, but he's pretty sure he must have loved his parents. But romantic love isn't something he's experienced yet.

Like? Yes. Lust? Certainly. Infatuation? Tom would say so. But love?

He knows there must be a difference between romantic love and platonic love because what he thinks he's starting to feel for Kyra certainly feels different to anything he's ever felt for anyone else.

He likes it and hates it in equal measure. Likes the comfort the thought of her brings. Hates the fear he feels when thinking she might not feel the same. Might get hurt. Might reject him.

Uninvited, the memory of a quote from a long gone English class pops into his mind, 'fortune and love favour the brave'. He likes to think of himself as an occasionally brave person – what he's gone through and achieved in the last year demonstrates that. So why is it that allowing himself to fall in love requires a braveness beyond anything he's ever known?

But she makes him brave. That's it, isn't it? Love?